


Sixteen Days, and I'm still thinking of you

by son_of_a_bitch_supernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Sam Knows, little angst, sam is so smart, there are suds, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/son_of_a_bitch_supernatural/pseuds/son_of_a_bitch_supernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been sixteen days. <br/>Sixteen days since his last call. <br/>Dean wasn't worried, positive that he was fine, but he was going out of his mind. </p><p>Sixteen days didn't seem like much but it felt like more. Dean puttered around, cleaning things and tinkering with anything that so much as creaked. He kept himself busy, kept his mind off his cold and neglected phone. When he wasn't doing that, he was avoiding alcohol, knowing Sam hated to see him drinking. In times like these, Dean couldn't have a drink without getting more and eventually getting wasted. So, Dean cleaned and drank a lot of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixteen Days, and I'm still thinking of you

It had been sixteen days.   
Sixteen days since his last call.   
Dean wasn't worried, positive that he was fine, but he was going out of his mind. 

Sam kept giving him these looks, small fleeting glances that were softened with pity that Dean hated. Dean could feel the weight of Sam's unspoken words weighing heavily on his shoulders, sinking down on him, dragging him through the dirt. He wanted to yell and lash out at Sam for it but he found that he was often too tired to even begin. These days, he was always exhausted and lacking the energy. 

Sixteen days didn't seem like much but it felt like more. Dean puttered around, cleaning things and tinkering with anything that so much as creaked. He kept himself busy, kept his mind off his cold and neglected phone. When he wasn't doing that, he was avoiding alcohol, knowing Sam hated to see him drinking. In times like these, Dean couldn't have a drink without getting more and eventually getting wasted. So, Dean cleaned and drank a lot of coffee. 

To be fair, the bunker had needed cleaning. Or, it did when he started. But, fourteen days in and Dean was running out of things to clean. He knew it was getting bad when he started dusting the library shelves. Sam was getting more obvious in his concern.

So, sixteen days had passed and Dean was beside himself with worry. He put a lot of his energy into not praying and scrubbed harder at the floor. He wasn't quite sure how he ended up on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the foyer floor with determination. His brush spread suds all around and the floor was more slippery than it was clean but Dean didn't mind. Sam was out running and it would be mindless work to mop up the soapy water he'd used to clean. 

Dean was already planning ahead to how he was going to polish the floor with a good sopping sponge. He knew his sudden obsession with cleaning was getting bad and he knew that it was only so long before Sam broke down and mentioned it. But, Dean was willing to drag it out and utilize his time. He wouldn't have to if Cas would just-

No. 

Dean was not going to go there. He refused to pray and he refused to call. He wasn't even going to think about it. No. Just- no. Dean scrubbed more violently, grunting as he put his back into it. His chest felt like it was caving and his heart clenched in his chest, threatening to choke him, but Dean worked hard to ignore it and focus all his attention on the suds. 

There was a flutter, a small upset in the air around him, followed quickly by a small gasp. Dean glanced up just in time to see Cas flailing around before he slipped in the suds and landed flat on his back with a thud. Dean blinked down at Cas who had landed right in front of him, gaping as Cas groaned and sat up. 

“Cas, what the hell?” Dean barked, taken by surprise.

“Hello, Dean. You're cleaning.” Cas noted in that gravelly voice of his, a small strain in his tone. 

“I- I am.” Dean confirmed, blinking and sitting back on his haunches. Cas went to stand again and promptly slipped right back on his ass. 

“This is...hazardous.” Cas huffed, lifting his hand from a pile of suds and grimacing. 

A small chuckle bubbled up in Dean's chest and managed to slip past his lips. At the small admission, Dean's face broke into a wide grin and something like relief settled through him. Cas gave him a flat look, only seeing that Dean was amused at his failed attempts. Dean cleared his throat and stood up with ease, occupying the only space that was clear of the suds. Cas stared up at him, a frown on his face. 

“What are you doing here, man?” Dean blurted out.

“I decided to come by.” Cas said simply, still seated. 

“You could've called, I would've warned you about the floor.” Dean told him. Cas hummed and looked at the surrounding suds, confusion on his face. 

“Was there blood here? Why are you cleaning?” Cas asked in open curiosity, tilting his head back to look up for Dean's reply. Dean swallowed thickly. 

“I was just- the floor looked like it needed cleaning. We're always tracking in mud and blood and all that, so I figured I could clean.” Dean mumbled, feeling pathetic and foolish. Cas nodded. 

“Would you like some help? I'm fairly sure that I've tracked my own fair share of messes in here.” Cas mused, looking around thoughtfully. 

“No! No, you don't have to clean, man. Uh, we can do something else. I'll just, uh- I'll finish this later.” Dean muttered frantically, waving around vaguely. 

In truth, Dean didn't want Cas to get bored cleaning and decide to leave again. Dean wasn't going to run Cas off. In fact, he was going to do everything to keep him for as long as Cas would stick around. He cleared his throat and glanced around, wondering just what would make Cas want to be there at all. 

“Dean, this entire floor is covered in soap. You can't just leave it. Let me help you.” Cas said seriously, nodding solemnly, like suds were serious business. 

“I can finish up here. Uh, you can go fix some coffee and have a cup. After I finish, we can take a ride somewhere. I could go for a burger.” Dean suggested halfheartedly, expecting Cas to frown and leave again.

Instead, Cas smiled up at him, looking completely content to do whatever Dean suggested. He nodded his agreement and then spent a few moments just gazing up at Dean. And, Dean should've felt stupid just standing there, staring down at Cas, surrounded by soapy suds, but he didn't. 

“Dean.” Cas said abruptly. 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, clearing his throat. 

“Can you help me up?” Cas asked seriously. It broke the moment and Dean snorted. 

“Sure, buddy.” Dean agreed. “Give me your hands.” 

Cas obliged and held up his hands, waiting for Dean to heft him up. Dean crossed his hands over each other and clasped Cas’ hands, thumbs hooking over each other's. There was a small pause that Dean braced himself before he gave a tug. 

It was miscalculated or something because Dean stumbled forward out of his little protective circle of uncovered floor and slid immediately into the suds. Cas made a noise of disapproval right before Dean hit the floor. Cas had simply slid forward and he turned to stare back at Dean, grumbling quietly as he eyed the suds like they had personally offended him. 

“That didn't go as I had pictured it in my head.” Cas admitted to Dean, tilting his head as Dean groaned and reached up to swat suds out of his own hair. 

“Yeah, no it didn't. Ouch.” Dean huffed, wincing slightly as he sat up, his palms slipping in the suds before getting a good enough grip. 

“You went down hard. Are you alright?” 

“I'm fine, Cas.” 

“I see that you were very thorough in your cleaning.” Cas mentioned lightly. Dean groaned. 

“Yeah, I was getting really into it.” Dean admitted, feeling lower and lower as he sat in the damp suds. 

“I'm sure it is easy, Dean. We just need to manoeuvre around until we can get a good grip.” Cas said easily and then proceeded to slide awkwardly until he was settled on his knees and not his ass. 

“We're going to slip the moment we stand.” Dean told him. “Might as well not move.” 

“So. Just sit here?” Cas asked, his brow crinkling in confusion. Dean set his jaw, glancing away. 

“You can leave.” Dean said gruffly. “If you want.” 

There was some silence in which Dean took the time to glare down at the suds that were ruining his life. Literally, Cas comes back and unintentionally, Dean gives him the perfect reason to leave. Again. The opposite of what Dean wanted is exactly what happened. Because, his luck was shit and his last name was fucking Winchester. 

Dean expected to hear a small flutter, feel a small shift in the air, maybe even get a quick goodbye. What he doesn't expect is a small hum followed by a splat as a good glob of soap hit him right in his cheek. Dean froze, not quite believing what just happened actually just happened. Slowly, he turned his head to gape at Cas who was flinging soap from his hands in pure delight, looking immensely pleased with the suds that were slowly sliding down Dean's face. 

“Or, I could just sit here with you.” Cas countered. 

“You just…” Dean trailed off, absolutely fucking stunned. “Why did you do that?” 

“You were being petulant and I was curious about your reaction.” Cas told him seriously. 

“Petulant? I wasn't- Look, Cas, you don't have to stay. I get it. If I could leave the room, I would.” Dean muttered, returning to sulking without any trouble. 

“Dean, do you recall the time that you hit me in the face with a tennis ball and used the excuse that you warned me with a ‘think fast’ for why it wasn't your fault?” Cas asked him out of nowhere. Dean blinked.

“Uh, yes. Why?” 

“Think fast.” 

Dean didn't even have time to think that over before one of the rags Dean had been using sailed through the air and landed right on Dean's head. Dean spluttered, ripping the rag away and spitting out the soapy water that had gotten in his mouth. He flung the rag in annoyance and turned to glare at Cas, a shout ready to crawl its way from his mouth. 

But, Cas was laughing, his eyes bright and dancing and his arms curling to cradle his stomach as a full body laugh erupted from him. He radiated pure happinesses, pure contentedness, and Dean couldn't understand. Why was time with Dean enough for Cas? Why did he seem to enjoy it? 

“Dammit, Cas, that's not funny. You got soap in my mouth.” Dean snapped, wiping his lips. 

“It's not my fault.” Cas replied, chuckling softly. 

“I said ‘think fast’ in plenty of enough time before I even threw the tennis ball.” Dean muttered. 

“I wasn't aware of what that term meant.” Cas replied, arching an eyebrow. Dean snorted. 

“Heh. You should've seen your face.” 

“Dean.” 

“What? It was funny!” Dean laughed. 

“I had a circle shaped bruise on my forehead for days, Dean.” Cas grumbled. 

“You could've healed it.” Dean reminded him. 

“I assumed you felt guilty and I wanted you to. I wasn't aware that every time you saw it and turned away, it was because you didn't want to laugh.” 

“Dude, if you could've seen the way you looked. It was priceless. I promise you that it wasn't so bad.” 

“You didn't look at me for days.” Cas sighed sadly, shaking his head. Dean laughed and hung his head. 

“I'm sorry. I promise it wasn't for a lack of trying. I wanted to look at you but I didn't want to laugh. Sam had better control than me.” Dean admitted sheepishly. Cas rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I want nothing more than to tease you about the suds in your hair and eyebrows but you see that I am refraining.” Cas said casually. 

Dean's hands immediately flew up and to his horror, he felt the light bubbles under his fingertips. He let out a growl and took to flicking the suds away. Cas watched in open amusement and Dean glared at him through it all. He shifted until he was on his knees like Cas was, so he was a bit taller than Cas. 

“Say a word, Cas, I dare you.” Dean warned, pointing at him and narrowing his eyes. Cas blinked innocently.   
“A word.” 

Dean didn't think, just reacted. He knew how he would've reacted if it was Sam and he didn't hesitate to go that route with Cas. He launched himself at Cas, knocking them both back into the soapy mess around them. Dean tried to get as much soap on Cas that he could and in turn, avoid getting soap on himself. 

Cas squirmed around but he was laughing, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. He was wiping soap all through Dean's hair and on his clothes but Dean ignored it. He located the bucket full of soapy water and proceeded to lift it and turn it over Cas, not even caring that some splashed back on him. 

“Say it! Say ‘Uncle’ Cas!” Dean shouted. Cas spluttered and tried to reach up to rub his face but Dean held his hands down. Cas shook his head like a dog would to dispel the water. 

“Why? I don't understand.” Cas replied in pure honesty, his voice slightly raised as he tugged on his hands. Dean burst out laughing. 

“Just say it!” Dean demanded. 

“No!” Cas shouted back, stubbornness coming easily to him. “I won't, Dean.” 

“Fine!” Dean said nonchalantly. 

Dean took a few extra minutes to gather up suds and press them into Cas’ ears and wipe it down his trench coat. Cas struggled at first but when it became clear that Dean had the upper hand, he just went lax and grumbled quietly as Dean cackled and made a mess. 

Eventually, Dean got bored with applying suds to every open part of Cas and sat back to laugh at what he'd caused. Cas opened his eyes when Dean seemed done. He wrinkled his nose as Dean moved away and gave him freedom to move, reaching up to wipe away as much of the soap that he could. 

“It has been some time since I took a shower but I am going to have to after this.” Cas grumbled. 

“You started it.” Dean told him, raising his hands as if surrendering. Cas shot him a flat look. 

They fell into comfortable silence and Dean watched as Cas went about wiping away all the soap. His face was set in concentration and his fingers never missed a patch of bubbles that he wiped at. Dean watched and he felt stupid as his mood took a sharp nose dive. There wasn't a reason for it but as he watched Cas’ sure fingers and open expression, he couldn't help it. 

“Cas.” Dean croaked out, his heart thumping in his chest heavily. “Why are you here?” 

“What do you mean, Dean?” Cas asked and glanced up, his hands stilling on the front of his coat. 

“I just- You've got a solid place in heaven, right? Sam and I were there when the angel came to give you the news.” Dean reminded him. Cas nodded. 

“I remember. I do have a home in heaven. I was pardoned and they want me to be more prominent there now.” Cas said, rolling his eyes. 

If Dean felt down before, it didn't compare to how he felt after those words. Dean quickly averted his eyes so that Cas couldn't see it flash across his face. His stomach dropped and his fingers immediately started fidgeting with his sleeve. Dean cleared his throat and worked to force the next words out. 

“So, what are you doing here?” 

Dean let his gaze run back to Cas to see if Cas understood what he was getting at. Instead, he saw hurt cross Cas’ face and he realized that Cas took it the wrong way. He wanted to rush and tell Cas that wasn't how he meant it. He didn't want Cas to stay in heaven, he was just curious as to why Cas would even want to leave heaven. 

“I was under the impression that I was welcome.”

“You are! That's not what I meant.”

“Then, what did you mean?” Cas murmured, tilting his head down and staring down at the suds clinging to his coat like they had the answers to the world, to the universe, to everything. 

“I just don't understand, man. Why would you even leave heaven?” Dean muttered. Cas’ face twisted, almost like it wanted to transform into a sharp emotion, before it went very still and wiped clean of anything, becoming completely blank.

“You're saying that I should just stay in heaven. That it is where I belong.” Cas noted, not asking. 

“I mean-” 

“That's ironic, Dean, because I only came down here because you were yearning for it. Do you forget that I can feel your longing for me as if you were praying?” 

Dean had a feeling that the conversation got widely off track, not going nowhere near the direction he had originally steered it. His stomach dropped and the flat words, at the blank expression. It didn't help matters that Dean's insecurity at someone knowing that he missed them or wanted them was put out there blatantly. Cas hadn't held back, didn't refrain from blurting out exactly what Dean had been working so hard to avoid and refuse to acknowledge. 

“I…” Dean trailed off, a lump clogging his throat and forcing him to swallow thickly before he even tried again. “It wasn't like that. I just hadn't heard from you in days, man. The last thing we heard was of heaven giving you a place back and then, poof, you're just gone. I didn't know if- We had no idea-” 

Cas tilted his head, squinting his eyes at Dean as he stared at him. Some of the obvious hurt and anger started to bleed from his face and Dean hoped he got his point across. Cas stared at him hard, his gaze heavy and like quicksand, tugging Dean in and dragging him under. Dean had no choice but to stare back and try not to sway forward and slip in the suds. 

“This isn't about me.” Cas announced and Dean blinked at his abruptness. “This is about you.” 

“Uh…” Dean trailed off and arched an eyebrow. 

“You think that I wouldn't find any relief in your company and you assume that I'd prefer to be in heaven instead of here. You are under the impression that I have nothing holding me here anymore.” 

And, well, yeah… When Cas put it like that...yeah. It was true and Dean kept waiting for Cas to agree, to assure Dean that he had the right idea after all. Dean could barely swallow, let alone talk, so he nodded jerkily, confirming Cas’ theories. Cas stared at him for a while longer, a sadness creeping up in his smile. 

“Oh, Dean, you are so blaringly obliviously human sometimes.” Cas murmured, shaking his head. 

“I- I'd hope so.” Dean blurted out, blinking in surprise at Cas’ odd statement. 

“Listen to me very closely, heaven is not my home, not anymore. Maybe I wanted it to be and maybe I ached for the familiarity of it, but I was searching for the wrong thing. Going back has taught me that it is not where I want to be. Heaven is a job, something I feel required to do. But, home? That is here. That is with you and Sam, on earth. I don't know when it became that, but it is.” Cas said softly, sincerely. 

Dean cleared his throat, shifted. He hated the itch he felt at the uncomfortableness that the softened words brought. It was a deep moment, kind and warm, and Dean hated how he didn't know how to handle it. He was never good with these things and he sucked with words. He knew he'd either break the moment or say something vaguely insulting and he'd show Cas that he was wrong, that he didn't have anything to offer, and send him running in hurry. 

There were certain things that Cas and Dean spent a lot of time not discussing, things they didn't mention or acknowledge. Like, how Dean had tackled Cas only moments before and he'd allowed his fingers to go inside Cas’ trench coat, let them brush along the cloth that covered his skin. Like, how they seemed to be sucked into each other's orbit, as if literally having no choice other than to be forever drawn in and centered around each other. Like, how they were best friends and that was something they were scared to lose, even if they were also so much more. 

The fact that Cas always came back to Dean was one of those things they didn't talk about. It didn't matter what they were up against or who, it was a known thing that Cas always chose Dean. They knew it and had admitted to it, internally of course, but they didn't bring it up between them. It had been something they were sure of up until recently, when Cas got his home back in heaven. So, talking about one of the things that they just didn't talk about, well, it made Dean feel as if the rug had been yanked from underneath him. 

He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to respond. And, Cas was watching him, waiting for something. Dean didn't have anything to offer, didn't know what would be worth it to Cas. So, he did what he always did when he felt like this, he made a joke. Or, he attempted to. 

“Well, the bunker doesn't have much going for it, except for my room. That's where all the fun is at…” Dean trailed off, realizing that he sounded stupid and probably looked like a complete fool. But Cas, bless him, broke into a wide smile and he chuckled, like Dean's humor wasn't shaky and muffled in that. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said softly. “Have you been worried about my absence, really?” 

“Yeah.” Dean admitted as he averted his eyes, honesty coming to him easier when he wasn't looking at Cas. “I didn't know if you were coming back.”

“You wanted me to?” Cas asked and Dean could practically feel that piercing gaze searing into him. 

It was strangled and it took a lot but Dean finally managed to answer with a quick, “Yeah, I did.” 

“I wasn't going to, at first.” Cas admitted after a long beat of silence. “I was aware that I was welcome but I wasn't sure if I was wanted. For the past sixteen days, I hadn't gotten one prayer from you, nor Sam. It was just today that I felt the longing from you. There was a lot of relief from me at that.” 

Dean swallowed, very much aware that somehow they'd come closer together. They were practically side by side now, suds crawling up their pants legs at their mutual maneuvering. Cas’ warmth was radiating, seeming as if it was reaching out to Dean, trying to reel him in and it was close to succeeding. 

“I didn't want to bother you by praying but I wanted you here. Every day, Cas.” Dean admitted gruffly, still determinedly staring down at the suds around them. 

There was a gentle touch at his wrist and he jumped, feeling on edge. He snapped his head up, swallowing reflexively, and he looked right up into Cas’ softened face. His eyes were bright, seeming to have an inner light, reflecting his happiness with ease. There was quiet around them, the world seeming to still for their moment, seeming to give them this like it had been waiting for it to finally happen. 

“If it's any consolation, there wasn't a moment that I wasn't ready to come back the second I received a prayer or felt some longing.” Cas murmured, his fingers soft against Dean's pulse. 

“I- I… I didn't think you'd want- Why do you want-”

“Dean, you should know better. You should know that if I was given a choice, I'd be here with...with you.” 

It was getting harder to communicate and Dean couldn't articulate much of anything with the small breaking that was going on inside him. He couldn't anymore. It was a good thing that Cas knew him so well or they wouldn't have gotten this far. Dean hated to cut it off like this, especially with how much was growing and solidifying between them. 

But, Dean couldn't take it anymore, couldn't handle the words floating between them, couldn't handle how they were simultaneously tearing him down and building him back up. He wanted to be able to tell Cas something but he knew he wasn't going to be able to anymore. He wasn't going to be able to open his mouth and speak what he was feeling, what he wanted, what he was afraid of, and there was nothing more that he ached to do. 

Dean shook his head, lifting a hand like he could just stop what was happening. But, Cas made a soft sound and shuffled closer, his hands crawling up his arms to grip him tighter. Dean tried, he really fucking tried to, but he just couldn't say anything else. He knew if he managed to say anything, it'd be a dismissal and he'd be shutting Cas down, halting all progress that they'd managed to have. And, for once, he really didn't want to stop this between them. 

Dean knew what came next. Hell yeah, he did. This was at the end of every fucking chick flick he refused to watch. He wasn't stupid or oblivious. That was why when Cas pulled him into a hug, Dean had already anticipated it. Knowing it was coming didn't prepare him for how nice it felt or for how his body clinged to it without his permission. 

“I know.” Cas whispered against his cheek, reassuring him. It made Dean wonder if he'd picked up on his longing to talk, to let things unfold between them, or if he just knew Dean all that well. 

And, Dean knew he couldn't talk. He was mostly a man of action, always on the move, always ready to run in to save the day, always ready to run from the emotional issues at the forefront of his brain. He liked the not having to think that being in action brought him. So, while he couldn't talk, he could act and tell Cas so much more with that instead of words. 

Dean didn't give himself time to change his mind. He shut his brain off like he did when he was in action. He just felt, just did what was right. His skin scraped against Cas’ scruff as he turned his head and he hadn't been aware that he would like that feeling. But, it was good and Dean almost wanted to do it again. Instead, he kept turning his head, his lips chasing against skin, searching as they followed a clear path. 

Cas went very still and Dean knew his intentions had become clear. He paused, right there, so close, and he waited in case Cas wanted to pull away. But, Cas didn't move, didn't even seem to be breathing, so Dean finished out his action. 

Dean became aware of a lot of things the moment his lips found Cas’ lips. He became aware that they were sitting in a puddle of soap. He realized that they were still wrapped around each other, their fingers gripping shoulders and backs. He noticed that Cas’ lips were soft and full and slightly chapped. But, the main thing that played a loop in his head was that Cas was actually kissing him back. 

And, it was scary. It was pure terror inducing to be in this situation. Dean didn't allow himself to think about this, didn't allow himself to want it. But, he had wanted it anyway. It still fucking scared him. Scared him how easily they got caught up in it, how their hands got minds of their own, tugging and running along skin, nails digging in, thumbs brushing over cheeks, hands pushing through hair. It was too much and going way too fast and Dean didn't even care. 

It took him a few moments before he could get control and let his grip soften and ease up. His teeth stopped yanking on Cas’ lips, stopped tugging and nipping to leave their mark. Dean let his kisses get lighter, almost going sweet in apology. It slowed down, went from roaring in his ears, to humming softly in the back of his mind. It felt good and Dean didn't feel so horrible for not caring about this. 

Eventually, the kissing just tapered off into a soft nuzzling of their faces. Dean liked the feeling of his nose running down the side of Cas’ nose. He liked to feel Cas’ scruff on his cheek. He enjoyed the drag of lips against skin. He let his hands ruffle Cas’ hair, liking how soft it was. It was nice inside their little bubble and not pulling away kept the panic boxed between them, kept things from smothering them. 

They stared at each other as they moved away, their hands falling away, their bodies pulling away sluggishly. Dean could feel panic and uncertainty try to cloud in, knew that this was going to fall to shambles. He was just too vulnerable, too invested in Cas. He could really fucking get hurt. 

Their friendship could've ended just that quick. Cas could leave and never return. Dean could've misread the situation, though he doubted it. It could mean something different for Cas than it did him. Dean could've really just fucked everything up. He should've been opening his mouth and brushing it off, should've been rushing to cover it up. 

But, no. 

Dean was going to sit there and let himself crumble if he had to. He wasn't about to fuck things up worse. The possibility that Cas was just as invested kept Dean rooted to the spot, kept him quiet and waiting. He'd let the panic drown him if Cas told him that he wanted to jump off into the deep end. He waited, hoping Cas would offer up something, anything. 

“You've got suds in your hair.” Cas told him, his voice thicker and more gruff than ever. Dean blinked, confusion taking over panic for a moment. 

“What?” 

“You've got-” 

“I know. I heard you, I just… Is that it?” 

Dean waited and Cas stared at him. It only occurred to Dean then that maybe Cas was just as worried as he was. Maybe he was just as vulnerable as Dean felt. Maybe they needed to actually talk about the things they didn't talk about. Cas pursed his lips suddenly and he cleared his throat. 

“I don't know how to- I'm not sure what to-”

“Cas, man, relax. It's… Okay, it's okay. Maybe I should've asked you before I just-” 

“No! No, it was… I wanted to- I'm just not-”

“We should just- I don't- Fuck, I don't know.” Dean stuttered, feeling completely out of sorts. 

“I don't know either.” Cas said miserably, deflating in on himself with a sigh. 

Thankfully, they were saved from more fumbling. The Bunker's door opened and closed with a clang as Sam came through. His face was wet with sweat as was his workout shirt. His hair was also up in a ponytail and he was guzzling a bottle of water. The bottle crinkled as he hopped down the stairs, light on his toes, and seemingly in a better mood. 

Sam stopped at the bottom of the stairs, seeing them. Sam swallowed and slowly brought the bottle down, staring at the scene before him, taking in the soap and Cas and Dean. He didn't say anything for a long time, just staring. He pursed his lips and glanced between them, his eyes narrowing. 

“Hello, Sam.” Cas said solemnly. 

“Hey, Cas. Good to see you, man.” Sam replied slowly, suspicion very obvious in his eyes and tone. 

“It is good to see you as well.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Uh, Sammy, how was your run?” Dean asked, coughing awkwardly. He'd do nearly anything to get relief from the stifling awkwardness in the room. 

And, just like that, Sam's face went slack with understanding. His grip on the bottle loosened but he didn't let it drop to the floor. Sam gave a very small, breathless laugh. Dean felt his stomach drop with the realization that passed through Sam's eyes. It meant nothing good for Dean, that much was clear. 

“I'll be damned.” Sam blurted out. “You and Cas?”

“Sam…” Dean groaned pitifully. 

“Finally!” Sam burst out, laughing slightly breathlessly. Dean's head snapped up and Cas blinked. 

“I- What?” Dean muttered. 

“Bout damn time, too. This is great. No, Dean, I don't care. Yes, Castiel, I say go for it. And, because Dean's too much of a child sometimes, I'll tell you for him. It's love. Be happy.” Sam listed off, like he'd been waiting to say this forever. 

Laughing, Sam shook his head and headed to his room. He was snickering all the way down the hall, muttering something about calling Charlie. Dean gaped after him, taken by surprise. His brother rarely managed to shock him but he had just managed to. There was a small chuckle beside him and Dean glanced at Cas, catching the small smile on his face. 

“Well…” Dean muttered. “Hell.” 

“Hmm. I'd say that Sam has the right idea.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes. Be happy? It sounds like a reasonable goal.” Cas said simply. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dean agreed lightly, hiding a smile.   
They didn't have to say anything else, didn't have to solidify anything between them. It was that easy. All of Dean's panic and worry just sort of faded away, leaving him thanking Sam within the confines of his head. He'd never say it out loud, plus he knew that Sam was going to rag on him about it all the time. 

Dean put his hand down as he shifted and it landed on one of the rags that Cas had thrown at him. Dean glanced at Cas and seen him staring off into space, his eyes glazed as he was lost in his thoughts. Dean grinned and picked up the rag, tossing it as Cas. It landed on his head with a squelch, draping over his face and hair. Cas went very rigid and Dean burst out into loud uproarious laughter. Cas slowly peeled the rag away, his eyes narrowed, and Dean laughed harder. Cas tackling him and suds flying up everywhere was to be expected really. 

“Uncle, Cas! Uncle!” 

“I'm afraid I don't know what that means!” 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> second story! hope you all enjoy!
> 
> -sobs


End file.
